Confessional
by Lazarus Risen
Summary: Mohinder relates to Thompson about his experiences with Zane. Slash.


Confessional

He was such a strange man, Zane. Wide, puppy dog eyes. An innocent smile. So timid at times, and yet curiously confident and sure of himself at others. Eager to please, too—he just couldn't stop thanking me for inviting him on the journey to find other people with extraordinary abilities. He seemed to keep forgetting that I had not invited him, and that he had, in fact, invited himself, and that I had agreed to it because—well, I'm still not so sure on that part. He made my heart...quicken, somehow. It was all very confusing. It still is.

I'm getting off the subject here...um, no, I did not suspect who "Zane" really was, or that he was being impersonated, for the simple reason that I had never met the man before. I didn't know his habits, I didn't know what he looked like...all I knew of him was the message left on my answering machine of a scared man in desperate need of my help. That was why I was so surprised when I finally got to his house—he seemed so cool and collected. Not at all like the person on the phone. I took him for his word, however—that he'd had a spiritual epiphany and that it was his destiny to have these powers. He had rather captivated me with his personal maxims and his optimistic outlook. It was part of what drew me to him...

So, we went on our little "road trip", as it were. Zane was excellent company, telling stories about his life, and the band he was in, and all sorts of interesting topics, and I couldn't...well, I just couldn't seem to speak. He locked me down. Shut my brain off. And—I'm getting off-topic again. Sorry.

Anyway, he...flattered me constantly. He exuded an aura of humility and awe, and shyness. Twisted my stomach in knots...made my head feel dizzy. If he hadn't been there, I would never have been able to convince Dale that I was serious and that I wanted to help her. No one could deny that he had powers when he completely liquified solid objects. One would _have_ to own up to their strange experiences then. He made a difference. He was good. He was...pure, I guess is the way you could describe it. Dale heard his heart quicken—and I prayed she was distracted enough by him that she couldn't hear mine rapidly thumping every time Zane looked at me.

When we got back to the motel, I told him about Sylar murdering my father, and something strange came over him...I didn't realize then what it was. I thought, perhaps, he felt some sort of kinship with me. Perhaps someone had hurt someone close to him as well. He started talking about how we would find all of the genetically super-powered humans "together...just the two of us". I can't really describe what I felt then. I seemed to...get this tingle that went all the way down to my socks. He clapped me on the shoulder—electricity. He went in his room. My stomach was sinking quickly onto the floor, and I slowly entered my own, unfortunately separate, room.

And then...Dale was dead. I just couldn't believe it. She had been alive just yesterday. Sylar had gotten to her...the sight of her brainless, blood-drenched corpse hanging upside down made me vomit all over the driveway. I had never seen such a thing in my entire life. It was repulsive—sickening—I'm sure you can imagine.

He seemed so concerned. He ran out the car...he seemed so genuinely worried. Even in my state of panic I couldn't help softening when his eyes gazed down on me. He told me we shouldn't call the police. He said we would look suspicious. I agreed with him.

I had become somewhat obsessed with him. He turned me inside out, he made me feel such affection and tenderness and—confusion. Lots of confusion. So, doing what I sometimes do when I am fascinated with someone, I did a little research on him—put his name in a search engine. I was just curious to see what would come up. Maybe his band had a website, and maybe there were pictures there, and I could stare at him as long as I wanted without him wondering why or becoming uneasy...but what I found instead made me go cold. Zane Taylor, apparently, had been killed—the same day I had arrived. His brain was missing.

Sylar, I immediately thought. The man I have been traveling around with is Sylar. The man who murdered my father, who murdered Dale, and countless other innocent people...

It wasn't an easy thing to cope with. Nothing seemed real anymore. I was ashamed of myself for being so stupid, for not noticing the signs...a scientist is supposed to be observant, after all, but my emotions had warped and clouded my judgement to the point where I didn't realize I had a serial killer sleeping in the room next to mine. A serial killer that I...

All right. I think that's enough of that. Suffice to say I poisoned him, wanted to kill him, took a sample of his spinal fluid instead, tried to shoot him, and he telekinetically stopped the bullet in mid-air and attacked me. He seemed to get a savage pleasure out of it...anyway, he pinned me to the ceiling...tortured me...then he fought with Peter...it was horrible to watch. It was painful. The whole ordeal was painful, emotionally as well as physically. I just kept seeing Zane, not Sylar, choking me without ever laying his hands on me, thrusting me up to the ceiling with a flick of his wrist, slicing Peter's forehead using only his finger...

I think we're done here. I'd like to get back to trying to track him down, if you don't mind. I can't rest until he's been captured and killed...I won't be able to sleep...I can't sleep now...I still see Zane...


End file.
